


That's My Shirt

by TheCatholicFanGirl



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Arguments, Dorks, F/M, Fluff, Funny, Humor, In Love, Science Babies, argue like an old married couple, tee shirts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-03 21:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2888156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCatholicFanGirl/pseuds/TheCatholicFanGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You like wearing those skimpy shirts…”<br/>“My camisoles?” she scoffed. “I wear those when it’s warm; I wear large shirts, like this one, when it’s cold.”<br/>“It’s nearly sixty degrees outside, and that’s in Fahrenheit.” Fitz crossed his arms over his chest again.<br/>“Last night it was nearly twenty degrees in Fahrenheit!” Simmons yelped. “That and the placement of my room, means it was very cold last night.” She shook her head. “I wore this to bed, then I woke up late, and I just had time to put on these pants before meeting you before our first cuppa, and now you’re arguing that my shirt is…”<br/>“Mine!” Fitz scowled. “It’s my shirt! And please you had enough time to wake up and get dressed.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's My Shirt

Jemma ran into the lab, her hair was a mess; she was wearing yesterday’s pants and wearing … “Is that my shirt?” Fitz asked frowning at her.

            Jemma looked down at the [offending garment](http://www.oldnavy.com/products/res/thumbimg/mens-baseball-style-henleys-blue.jpg): dark blue and grey baseball shirt with three large buttons down the middle. It was quite large on her so it didn’t look like hers. “Oh, no, it’s mine.” She shook her head.

            “Bollox.” Fitz scoffed. “That is mine.” He said and rolled up the sleeves to his sweatshirt.

            “Is not!” Simmons yelped. “That shirt that you have, we have identical ones, except yours is missing this button.” She said and pointed to the top button. “Mine isn’t missing so this is mine.”

            “You are lying through your teeth, lass.” Fitz scoffed. “That is my shirt, I know it anywhere.”

            Simmons rolled her eyes. “Yes it _looks_ like your shirt, but it’s not I swear. We got the shirts at Old Navy on the same day. You lost your button because you keep fiddling with anything near your neck.” She said and then pointed at him messing with his necklace his mom gave him two birthdays ago. “See?”

            Fitz dropped his hand. “Okay even if this were true… which it isn’t. What if you just sewed the button back on and kept my shirt? Which I don’t mind, but you’re not telling the truth here.”

            Simmons sighed. “Fitz…” she groaned. “I didn’t have anything else to wear, so I grabbed this shirt, which is mine. I use it for a night shirt.”

            You don’t like wearing shirts to bed.” Fitz couldn’t stop the words falling out of his mouth.

            Simmons colored.

            “You like wearing those skimpy shirts…”

            “My camisoles?” she scoffed. “I wear those when it’s warm; I wear large shirts, like this one, when it’s cold.”

            “It’s nearly sixty degrees outside, and that’s in Fahrenheit.” Fitz crossed his arms over his chest again.

            “Last night it was nearly twenty degrees _in Fahrenheit_!” Simmons yelped. “That and the placement of my room, means it was very cold last night.” She shook her head. “I wore this to bed, then I woke up late, and I just had time to put on these pants before meeting you before our first cuppa, and now you’re arguing that my shirt is…”

            “Mine!” Fitz scowled. “It’s my shirt! You had enough time to wake up and get dressed.”

            Simmons raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have any makeup on, so I look like a disaster, my hair is a wreck. Do you really think I had time to get dressed?”

            “You had ten minutes.”

            “And I can do wonders in ten minutes, but putting makeup on and fixing my hair and getting dressed will take more than ten minutes!” Simmons sighed. “Besides, I was supposed to do laundry today, but you called me in for an emergency lab, this was all I had that was decently clean.”

            “You didn’t have to make your bed.”

            “Not this argument again.” Simmons groaned. “It shows a heathy mind when you make your bed, and I figured I wouldn’t have time to go back and do it.”

            “I never make my bed.”

            “This shows how well you remember us buying the same shirt on the same day at the same shop!” Simmons chided.

            “That did not happen!”

            Simmons sat on her hip. “When have I lied to you?”

            “Just now with the shirt!” Fitz yelped. “I don’t mind you wearing my shirt, if anything I find it endearing, but just tell me it’s my shirt and we can go along.”

            “It’s not your shirt! It’s mine!”

            “Prove it.” Fitz raised his eyebrows. “Ah, see if you could prove that it was your shirt you would have an answer.”

            “I don’t know where you put your shirt!” Jemma cried. “You keep your socks under your bed and your underwear in your sock drawer.”

            “How do you know which drawer is which?”

            “I’ve done your laundry, Fitz.”

            “So you should know where you put my shirt. On your body.”

            “This is my shirt!” Simmons said exhausted. “Let’s go check your room then?”

            “Fine.”

            “Fine!”

&&&

They had over turned his room, and cleaned it too. Simmons had convinced him to take off his bed sheets to wash them because ‘I don’t remember the last time I washed them’ meant it was time to wash them. “Once a week is how often you’re supposed to wash them.” Jemma sighed and sat down on his bed.

            “And see, no shirt in sight.” Fitz said ignoring her. “So c’mon give it up.”

            She shook her head. “No, you just want to see me naked is that it?”

            “Well…”

            Jemma threw a pillow at him. “I can’t imagine where you would put that shirt.”

            “You put my shirt on your body.”

            “It’s not your shirt!” Simmons swore.

            Fitz sighed and shed his sweatshirt. “Well, you know I’ll let you keep the shirt for today, and I’ll help you do laundry tonight.”

            Simmons nodded and looked down and then glanced up. “Oh you complete arse-hole!”

            “Fine I’ll do the laundry by myself.”  Fitz said in defense.

            “Are you kidding me, Leo?”

            “I’ll even make dinner tonight?” Fitz frowned.

            “Will you look at your shirt, you ninny.” Jemma said and buried her face into her hands.

            “Who are you calling…” he glanced down, and sure enough there was his shirt, with the top button missing, because he had been messing with it. “You were telling the truth?”

            “Of course I was!” Simmons yelped. “Did you think I would lie to you?”

            “I wasn’t sure!”

            Simmons stood and shook her head. “You complete…”

            “Arse, ninny, monkey brain…” Fitz listed.

            Simmons scoffed and then pushed him gently. “I quite like monkey brain.”

            “Though, the only reason that I thought it was my shirt…”

            “Was because you have an identical one?”

            “No… well yes… but the other night, I thought I had left something behind.” Fitz shrugged.

            Jemma colored. “You did.”

            “What did I leave behind?”

            “Your boxers.”

            Fitz colored. “Oh.” He rubbed her arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?”

            Simmons shook her head. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

            “Bother me?” Fitz laughed. “Jemma Simmons, you could never bother me.” He smiled and nudged her head up with his nose and kissed her cheek. “It would be my pleasure to keep you warm on a cold night.” He hugged her.

            “I heard something about you making me dinner?”

            “Yes, I can _make_ the phone call to the local Chinese restaurant.”

            “Can we make dinner lunch instead? Because I haven’t had breakfast and we’ve spent three hours cleaning your room.”

            Fitz laughed and kissed her neck and shoulder. “Of course, and that shirt looks really good on you by the way.”

            “Oh, don’t you try and get on my good side, Leopold Fitz.” She warned. “Not going to happen.”

            Fitz nibbled at her shoulder and hummed. “I gave you the promise of Chinese food and helping you with the laundry? What else do I have to do?”

            Simmons laughed as he hummed into her neck.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The shirt in question:  
> http://www.oldnavy.com/products/res/thumbimg/mens-baseball-style-henleys-blue.jpg
> 
> Thanks guys please review and give me Kudos if you liked it!


End file.
